


36 Questions

by ghostlyandcoastly



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-01-11 06:24:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18424713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlyandcoastly/pseuds/ghostlyandcoastly
Summary: Josh and Donna try to fix their relationship by returning to the 36 Questions. Set in season 7, pre The Cold.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for clicking I’m really excited about this story because it’s inspired by the 36 Questions podcast musical please look it up it’s fantastic. The story isn’t based on that story- I just like the framework from it (ie two people who did the 36 questions when they first met and then doing it again to try to fix their relationship) I’m also excited about this story because it’s a story I might actually be able to finish which like woah who woulda thought

THE SANTOS FOR A BRIGHTER AMERICA CAMPAIGN 2006

I am exhausted. But I can’t sleep. I’ve been staring at the hotel room ceiling for too long. I’m getting antsy. So I make my way down to the Santos war room. My stomach bubbles up with anxiety and I curse myself for it. This is a job. It is an important job. I _like_ this job. I am good at this job. I am an intelligent, strong thirty two year old woman and I’ll be damned if I let my old schoolgirl crush on my previously former, now not so former boss control whether or not I go into that room.

Now if I could only make my hand turn the doorknob.

“I’ll be right- oh hey, Donna.” Bram opened the door suddenly, pulling me from her reverie. “What are you doing up so late? Thought you went to bed.” Bram remarks kindly.  I smile at him but it doesn’t reach my eyes.

“Oh, ya know. Couldn’t sleep.” I offer. Bram nods and pats me on the shoulder. He walked off and I’m left with no choice but to enter.

There are only a few staffers up at this hour. Of course, Josh was here. Standing at a whiteboard, slightly hunched over, Josh has red bull in one hand and a marker in the other. He is pretending he doesn’t notice my presence in the room. That’s what he’s been doing since Lou had forced us into a room together (and then promptly rushed us off) before the Al Smith Dinner. It’s worse than it was in the primary. I want to talk to him about it but Josh being Josh is excellent at avoiding me. I ignore the resentment in my thoughts and forge ahead. I find Edie a little bit away from Josh.

“Hey, anything you guys want help with?” I offered. Edie at least looked glad to see me.

“No.” Came Josh’s voice to our right. Edie looked confused.

“Of course, there is, Josh. What are you-” Edie began.

“I’m here. Just let me help.” I insist, words sliding through my filter. I turn to him and he avoids my eyes by staring at the whiteboard. We both want to ignore the layers of subtext in that for the moment. Right now I just want to be productive. To stop thinking about Josh, to not let myself worry about whether I was still trying to prove myself to him.

“You’re communications. Do you see any reporters down here? You see Lou down here?” Josh quipped, capping the marker and picking up a file on the table Edie was standing at. I can’t help rolling my eyes.

“Yeah, that’s my _title_ but I think I’m still capable of lending a hand where needed, Josh.” I try to tamp down my temper.

“Yeah, Josh. Seriously- we could use her on-” Edie starts.

“Fine. I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me.” Josh states angrily then dropped the file on the table. He finally makes eye contact with me as he exits but it doesn’t make me feel any better.

“Wow. Listen, I’m sure it’s not personal- he’s been uptight since I’ve got here… Did you really work with him for the whole Bartlet administration?” Edie asks as we watch the door swing close.

“Uh, yeah. And on the campaign before that.”

“So what happened with you guys?” Edie asked. I shrug, half feeling like I don’t even know the answer to that question. “Sorry- I don’t mean to interrogate you with like 21 questions.”

A light bulb sparks to life in my head.

“36 questions.” I mutters under my breath. Edie looks at her blankly.

“Not following…”

“I, um, I have to go talk to Josh.” I run out of the room. I head for the business center and find what I need to print.

Tonight Josh and I are going to hash this out. I’m tired of feeling anxious and bitter and worried for him. I thought quitting would mean I’d move on. But I haven’t. Not yet. And tonight something was going to move and in what direction was entirely dependent on Josh and whether Arthur Aron was full of shit.

 

THE BARTLET FOR AMERICA CAMPAIGN 1998

We’re a little bit drunk. Pizza and beer in the war room turned into boxed wine and music in CJ’s room. Sam passed out about twenty minutes ago. Josh and I decided to head back to our rooms because I noticed Toby and CJ making eyes at each other. I made an excuse to leave, something about Josh waking me up tomorrow at an ungodly hour so that I can take care of him and his sensitive system.

We held on to each other to wobble down the stairs but we didn’t let go once on solid ground. We’re walking towards Josh’s room. I’m not sure what our plan is as of right now.

“Donna?” Josh pipes up, sounding more sober than I thought he was.

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you came back.” He stops and looks me in the eye. My heart stops. Is he going to kiss me? Is my boss going to kiss me? Not that I would mind. Okay, I would mind. But in the best possible way. Like _oh my god please kiss me._ He doesn’t though.

“I am too.” I whisper, hoping breaking the silence might spur him into action. I watch him gulp. He shakes his head a little and I know he’s not going to kiss me now.

“Well let’s keep the party going! You can’t go back to your hotel alone this late anyways!” He plants a smile on his face and takes a step forward. It’s like he snapped back into his jovial drunk state. It makes me wonder how much he wears his fool mask.

“Okay, what are we doing for this party?” I laugh to let the moment go.

“Hmm… talk?”

“Just talk? Man, they were right about you, Joshua. You are a party animal!”

“That’s right! A democratic party animal!”

“You’re a ridiculous man.”

“I’m a beatific man, Donna!” He exclaims.

“Are you still trying to prove your 750 verbal?” Josh and Toby got into an argument about Josh’s writing abilities earlier in the night.

“Donna!” He looks offended.

“Yes?”

“Seven! Six! Ty!”

“Ah, yes. How could I have forgotten.”

“You did that on purpose.”

“Oh, you know me so well.” I joke, unable to tamp down the grin on my face. Josh stops again suddenly. His face scrunches into a serious expression, like he’s trying to do particularly difficult differential equation.

“I don’t though. Do I?” Josh says quietly.

“What?” This conversation feels like a tilt-a-whirl at the fair.

“I don’t know you that well… We should.”

“We should…?”

“We should get to know each other.” He says as if this point is obvious. “Listen, I- we work together. Closely. And when we win the election, we’ll be too busy to do try to get to know each other so we should take the time now!” I pause, trying to gage the right response. I do have an idea but I don’t want to cross any lines.

“There is…” I trail off, feeling unsure.

“What?”

“Don’t laugh.” I pause again. He schools his expression to the picture of calm- well a Josh style calm. “Okay, there’s this experiment I was reading about in The Times. Done by this guy named Arthur Aron. It’s called the…” I pause again. I can see Josh is getting impatient with my evasiveness. I’m trying to decide on how much to tell him. A lot can be said about the title. If I go ahead and say that the questions are designed to make you fall in love, Josh will never agree to it and probably think I’m crazy for suggesting it. Josh’s impatience wins out and he groans. “Okay. Sorry! You’re going to laugh! It’s called the Experimental Generation of Interpersonal Closeness. Two people answer a series of 36 questions and it’s designed to bring them closer together.”

“That sounds perfect! The name is dorky but I wouldn’t expect anything less from a guy named Arthur Aron.”

“So you want to do it?”

“Yes! Now let’s go! We can pull it up on my computer!” Josh pulls me along in his direction. I follow, giggling a little at his exuberance.

I don’t know if I need thirty six questions to fall in love with Josh. It’s possible it already happened.

 

THE SANTOS FOR A BRIGHTER AMERICA CAMPAIGN 2006

Paper in hand, I raise my fist to knock on his hotel room. I can hear some scuffling around inside then nothing. I knock again.

“I’m coming, Jesus Christ- there better have been-” And he stopped. His voice was coming from just behind the door. “Donna?” Obviously he had seen me through the eyehole in the door.

“Yeah…” I wait for him to open the door. He doesn’t but I can hear begin pacing. “Josh?” There’s a pregnant pause.

“What’s up?” He finally opens the door, his tone is clipped but at least we’re were looking at one another now. He notices the papers in my hand. “Is that the new Iowa stats?” He goes to reach for it but I sidestep him. I know I have to propose this carefully so he will play along. Josh narrow his eyes at me, suspicious.

“They’re not the new Iowa stats.” I answer. His expression doesn’t change much. “Um, wanna invite me in?” I ask, trying to pretend just for a moment that things were normal.

“Why?”

“We need to talk.”

“We tried that. Didn’t go so well.” Josh replied, referring to the conversation when Lou first hired me.

“I know. But we shouldn’t give up that easily.”

“That’s ironic, Mary Ann Summers. But I really don’t have time for this.”

“Yes, you do. And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Donna, I’m the campaign manager. I’m busy, believe it or not! And it means! That you’re one to talk about giving up!” Josh was getting louder. I either needed to leave or get him inside the room before any curious eyes and ears dropped in. I level my gaze at him and glare for a minute. Josh realizes how loud he must have gotten and looks up and down the hall, looking both relieved and disappointed no one was around to hear- or to interrupt.

“Five minutes. You give me five minutes. I gave you six and a half years, give me five minutes.”

“Fine.” Josh turns his back but holds the door open for my reaching behind himself. He contorts his body so that no part of me touches him. That’s just fine for now. I want to keep a clear head.

His hotel room is a disaster zone. I hadn’t expected anything else. I also didn’t expect him to walk over the microwave and start it for five minutes.

“Time’s started.”

“Always the flare for the dramatics.”

“You’d know- you were a thespian in college, right?” I rolled my eyes at his dig at my amalgamation of majors in college. “Clock’s ticking.”

“Okay…” I take a steadying breath. I start to pace but stop when I catch his wry expression. “I have a proposal.”

“Four minutes aaaand twenty three seconds- no, twenty two-”

“I get it! Just give me. Just give me a minute.” I _want_ to strangle him. “Okay. We’re currently stuck in limbo.”

“... Wanna expand on that?” Josh was getting impatient.

“We are going to be working together. I know you don’t like it. But I’m good at this. And I like this. And I believe in Santos-”

“Sure, now you do.” He raised his voice.

“I always did. I just didn’t want to be at your beck and call Josh!” I yell back. There is a pause where we’re just eyeing each other up.

“Three minutes forty two-”

“STOP! Okay. What I’m saying is! I can’t work like this. And you shouldn’t want to either. And I can help this campaign. And like you said, you’re the campaign manager and I know how important this is to you. So tonight, we’re going to work this out.”

“Listen, Donna…” He rubbed his hand down his face. “This’ll be fine. We probably won’t even be at most campaign events tog- and you report to Lou who reports to me-”

“Fine, Josh. I get it. You don’t think it’s necessary for us to interact but it’s not just the campaign.” I want to backpedal. That’s a routine I know well. One of us says something too close to the truth, too personal and we sprint back into safety. But I quit and I won’t do that routine anymore. I may just not have the stamina for it anymore. “And I don’t have a solution for this. And I know it scares you to not have a gameplan. But you can’t just avoid me without… coming to a decision.”

“A decision?” Josh looks uneasy.

“After tonight, after you agree to my proposal and after we follow through… if you decide that’s it, that’s it and this is what it’ll be. We can give up on fixing this.” I gesture between the two of us.

“... That’s a pretty vague ultimatum.” Josh quips. I wait- I can see the gears turning in his head. “What’s this proposal?”

“We are going to do the 36 questions.” I laid it out. Josh takes his sweet sweet time looking at the floor.

“Think we can do that in two minutes you have left?” He tries to joke, gesturing at the microwave.

“The stipulations are only that we have to answer honestly. Without holding back. And nothing said in this room leaves it.” I sprint through his hesitation. Josh finally looks up at me. I feel the worry and insecurity seep in. Maybe he’d just tell me no. That it was a stupid idea. That he was too busy. That he didn’t care enough. That there really was nothing to fix.

Then he stands up and turns off the microwave timer. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding in.

“I’ll play along. But I’m adding a stipulation. We can tap out anytime during the first two sets.”

“... Not the third?”

“At the point, if we haven’t murdered each other, well…” I try not to let this comment bother me too much. He’s agreeing to my plan after all. It’s not like I didn’t expect his snark or his need for a safety net.

“Okay.” I sit in the desk chair and turn around. “Are you… ready?” He gulps and for a second, I can see that he cares still, that he might not hate me and the ground I stand on.

“Yeah. I’m ready, Donna.”


	2. Set I

THE SANTOS FOR A BRIGHTER AMERICA CAMPAIGN 2006

“At that point, if we haven’t murdered each other, well…” I try not to let this comment bother me too much. He’s agreeing to my plan after all. It’s not like I didn’t expect his snark or his need for a safety net.

“Okay.” I sit in the desk chair and turn around. “Are you… ready?” He gulps and for a second, I can see that he cares still, that he might not hate me and the ground I stand on.

“Yeah. I’m ready, Donna.”

Oddly, now I’m not sure if I’m ready. I know the first few questions are softballs but how ready am I to be honest with him? My answer to the first question is going to make how I feel about Josh pretty obvious. Am I willing to give up that much ground in the first skirmish? And when did I start planning my interactions with Josh as if our relationship is a war?

His words bring me back to the last time we did this. He sounded so different.

 

THE BARTLET FOR AMERICA CAMPAIGN 1998

“Yeah! I’m ready, Donna. Ask it!”

“Are you su-”

“Donna!” He groans and flops back on the bed we’re sitting on the edge of. I laugh and flop back next to him, rolling on my side. I place the laptop between us, by my stomach so I can see his face. His grin is wide and his dimples are out and his eyes are sparkling.

“Okay, okay.” I have to stop laughing. I’m a little drunk and a little nervous and Josh’s energy is infectious.

“Alright, Chuckles. I’ll ask first.” He turns the computer and focuses on the first question. “Given the choice of anyone in the world, living or dead, whom would you want as a dinner guest?”

My heart races a little when I realize my honest answer. There’s no way I can come out and say him. He’ll think I’m obsessed! It’s just… we’ve been having dinner together every night since I got back and I like that time together. I like stealing his fries and I like him complaining about it as he pushes it towards me. I like that he knows to get ranch even when he likes honey mustard. I like that he almost always gets ketchup on his chin and I can casually rub it off. I like that sometimes in middle of conversations, he’ll just stop and watch me. I like that we can have quiet moments. I like that he’s never commented on my eating habits aside from stealing his food. I like that even while we’re at a table with ten or more people, his attention is devoted to me. Well, me and his burned burger.

“Earth to Donna?”

“Don’t rush me! I was thinking, you goof.”

“Goof? I’m not the goof.”

“You are most definitely, absolutely, one hundred percently, the goof.” He rolls his eyes at my excessive adverbage. I go with my number two answer as to not freak him out. “This is corny but President Bartlet… He’s brilliant. And I know you guys are tired of his lectures and trivia but…” I shrug, picking at the blanket. I’m feeling a little shy about the nerdiness of my answer now. Josh touches my chin, bringing my eyes back to him.

“That’s adorable, you know.”

“Shut up.” God, why do I feel fourteen and Gabe Haddad just told me I was cute? (Gabe Hadded was the cutest boy of the sophomore class of Madison High.)

“It is! I’m sure he would agree with me.” Josh loves to be right.

“Oh my god! You are never _ever_ telling him that.”

“Well, you’re probably right. But only because I don’t wanna hear Toby ribbing me about the experiment to generate Josh and Donna friendship.”

“We’re not already friends?” The question is out of my mouth before I can pull it back in. His smile widens in response.

“Of course we are.”

“Good.” I smile back at him. “Okay, your turn to answer.”

“Ah.” He looks up at the ceiling now. “So this is a morbid answer… My dad. Just to, ya know, ask him stuff. Get more closure.”

Question one, down. Donna in love with Josh? Down for the count.

 

THE SANTOS FOR A BRIGHTER AMERICA CAMPAIGN 2006

“Earth to Donna?” His voice takes on a sardonic tone. I look at him. His face has been colored in with frown lines and his wrinkles by his eyes are more pronounced. His dimples show now from his frown, not a bursting at the seams smile. His hairline has receded. His coloring is grayer. A sadness settles in my heart as I’m shaken from memories of before. I smile sadly.

“You said that last time.”

“I- what?”

“Nothing.”

“I thought we were supposed to be honest.”

“With answering the questions. That wasn’t one of them.” Josh rubs his eyes in exasperation. Good going Donna. Really teeing him up to forgive you and allow yourself to forgive him.

“Are we doing this?”

“Yeah.” I shake myself a little, trying to not dwell in the happy past or the depressing present. “So the first time we actually did it wrong, I realized reading the instructions.”

“We were drunk.” He shrugs. “How’d we do it wrong though?”

“So the person who reads the question aloud has to answer first.”

“That matters…?”

“It _matters_ because it will affect the effectiveness of the study.” Josh snorts at this.

“Donna, the study is supposed to be done on strangers.”

“Aren’t we?” I blurt out in my exasperation and exhaustion. His eyes flash to mine and I can see the hurt there but I don’t feel bad since we’re strangers because of his avoidance issues.

“Fine.” He relents, pulling his gaze from mine. “I still asked first last time though so you go.”

I want to argue. That technically since I _answered_ first last time, he should ask and answer first this time. But I also would prefer we make it to set three without murder or a blow out fight where he taps out when it gets too rough.

“Okay. Given the choice of anyone in the world, living or dead, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” I take a deep breath before my answer. I’m unable to look at him. It’s important that this time I’m honest. “You.”

There’s a second before he explodes onto his feet.

“I thought we were being serious here!”

“I am!” I yell back indignantly.

“Really?” He tosses back with disbelief. “Not John Lennon or JFK or Frida Kahlo? Me?” I know he’s being sarcastic but in my reality, the rest of the world pales in comparison. Dinner with Josh would mean he’d forgiven me, that we would talk freely. Maybe it’d be hostile but maybe I’d get my questions and worries answered and assuaged.

“Yes! You! I stuck around for as long as I did for a reason!”

“Yeah? What reason is that?” His expression is sour but at least he’s trying to follow my reasoning.

“I-I” Oh, god. How do I get this out? “Because you mean something to me. Because in the not to distant past, we really liked each other’s company. Because a year ago, we were having dinner together. Almost every night. And you can’t tell me it’s just because we were working. It’s because we liked spending time together and you liked making sure I wasn’t on dates!”

Well.

At least that’s out there now.

He’s just staring at me with this blank look on his face, like he’s trying to shut down his emotional response. I get the urge.

“It’s your turn now.” I know my voice is quiet but I can’t bring myself to worry that much about how weak that makes me seem because I’m pretty sure Josh is putting the pieces together that the first time we did this worked. That I’m in love with him.

Then I see a look of resignation pass over his features as he sits back on the bed again, this time by the pillows. The furthest he can get from me while not leaving the room.

“You.” His voice is as quiet as my own and it’s hard to hear but as he continues, his volume and energy ramps up. “You. I’d have dinner with Donnatella Moss!”

“Josh. You don’t have to say me because I said you.” I roll my eyes. But then my heart softens a little when I remember his answer from the last time. “Josh, you said your dad last time. You don’t have to change your answer.”

“Oh! But I do!” He says. “I do because I’m supposed to be honest, right? And I honestly wish I could it was my dad or my sister or hell, Toby! Or pull an old you and say the President but none of those people can take my calls right now! And that doesn’t matter because even if they could, it’s still you.”

I stare at him, blinking. I’m trying to parse his meaning.

“Why?” I whisper. He looks at me with his eyebrows pulled together as if it should be obvious.

“So I can make sure you’re not on a date.” His reply is sarcastic but I wonder about a note of truth there. Josh doesn’t know what I’m doing now. It occurs to me he might not even know I’m single. It’s not like he knows that I’ve been on two dates since we’d last seen each other and that those had gone terribly because I couldn't stop thinking about him. He starts talking again before I can question him further. “Question two. Would you like to be famous? In what way? I don’t know what qualifies as famous but…” He gets a weird look on his face. “The President said something to me once. I think it’s true… He was talking about how I didn’t want to disappoint Leo. How I didn’t want to be the guy, that I wanted to be the guy behind the guy. I think that’s true.”

“Very Wizard of Oz of you.” I smile a little. He doesn’t quite return it but he’s not frowning either.  I continue with my answer. “No. I don’t wanna be in a fishbowl.” I shrug, trying to maintain a conversational tone. “Okay, question three. Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?” I pause before answering, blushing a bit. He used to poke fun at me when he’d find me in his office muttering to myself if I had to make particularly important call. He always would give me the room to do it though. “Yeah, you know this.” He smiles a little this time. I wonder if he’s thinking about the time I had to kick him out of the office as well because I was nervous. It was for a call that Josh had passed on to me about the Brussels trip talking with the German ambassador’s chief of staff.

“I don’t. You know this.”

“You didn’t rehearse _take your legislative agenda and shove it up your ass_ in the mirror?” I quip back. He smiles a little again. I’m making progress! Well, it’s more of a smirk than a smile.

“Maybe that one a little.”

“Did you actually?”

“No, it was a last minute thing.” He’s leaning forward now, in storytelling mode. “Sam was in my ear and Toby was trying to make sure I was in the right headspace and then you came up and I don’t know. I wanted to-” He cuts himself off and looks at me. He sighs then continues. “I wanted to impress you a little.”

“Josh.” I roll my eyes.

“It’s true! You- you-”

“You impressed me plenty.”

“You were in that dress and- wait, what’d you say?”

“You impre- wait what did _you_ say?”

“Nothing! I impressed you all the time?” He’s grinning again. Still a smirk though.

“You liked my dress?”

“This is good information to have.”

“I didn’t say all the time. I said plenty.”

“Ah, what did I do that was so very _impressive_?”

“You’re obnoxious, you know.” My smile undermines the sentiment.

“I’ve been told.” We’re getting into a banter rhythm now. Can warmth flutter? Because that’s the only way to describe what’s happening inside me.

“What was it about that dress?” I sass back. He rolls his eyes at me but it lacks the hostility of before.

“Question four. What would constitute a “perfect” day for you?”

“Does yours involve that dress?” I smirk at him. He laughs but he seems surprised that it happened.

“Yeah, Donna, my perfect day is just watching you walk around in that dress. 24 hours of it."

“Alright, smart ass. What’s your perfect day?”

“Uh, wake up to good polling numbers.”

“You’re very predictable.”

“And you’re bad with the interrupting!” I laugh but gesture that my lips are sealed and he should continue. “So I am woken up with good poll numbers. Then someone in the GOP says something stupid that forces Vinnick to the left and we get to look good while the cable news shows spend the day harping on Republican idiocy.”

“Josh, did you notice this is all revolving around work?”

“I thought you weren’t interrupting? But fine. You’re right. Because it’s such a wonderful day for us and bad day for _them_ , I get to take off early and well this is a fantasy right? So we’re back at The White House and we all play poker and drink. And The First Lady is in town so the President doesn’t stick around long enough to quiz us.”

“Hey!”

“Or you’re there to distract him.”

“So glad I could finally get an invite.”

“Hey, you were invited.” I raised a brow at that. “Okay, so there may have been an oversight.” He cringed at that.

“It’s fine. I usually planned my dates for those nights.” I smirked.

“Tricky of you.”

“You don’t see an issue with me needing to trick my boss so I could go on a date?” He’s quiet at that. I wasn’t meaning for it to take a serious turn. “I just meant- I wasn’t trying to-” Josh shook it off and continued, cutting me off.

“And I’d wrap the day up with great sex.” He’s trying to distract me with making me blush. It works. “Your turn.” He smiles at me, attempting innocence. He’s moved forward, on the edge of the bed now.

“Fine. I’d start with sleeping in, doing something important something that’ll help people, eating something homecooked that I managed not to burn, and then just to put the cherry on top… some mind blowing, acrobatic sex.”

He blinks once, twice, and then his jaw drops. I can see his mind working through my adjectives.

“Josh?”

“Yeah?” His voice is all husky. Then the smirk slowly slides across his face. “Well, you wear that dress to poker night…” My blush deepens. This man is going to be the end of me.

“When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?” I ask so hopefully the temperature will cool down a little. “Uh, there was a karaoke thing during the Russell campaign.”

“You didn’t!”

“I didn’t, you’re right. But they got I Want Candy stuck in my head. So I sang it in my hotel room to myself that night. And in front of others? When I was home, I think. My sister and I revived our production of Sisters from White Christmas when we drank one too many White Claws.”

“Fran?”

“Yeah. She can be fun when she’s got some alcohol in her.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Josh grins at me. Fran and Josh met once before. Fran is pretty uptight and it showed when they met. I think he also knows how much Fran’s need to be right and mighty upsets me, how our relationship is mostly complicated.

“Your turn.”

“To myself? I’m not sure. I know it’s a cop out but I don’t.” He runs his hand through his hair. Josh sighs and stands up. He paces for a second. I’m starting to worry about what he’s about to say. “In front of someone… the, uh, the morning you left. When we were in my office.” He’s not looking at me, just at the wall.

I feel compelled to stand as well. I stop just a few feet from him. If he notices I’ve moved, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“I’m sorry, Josh. I-I had to do it. And-”

“Let’s not. Let’s just try and get through these before- let’s just. Question six.” He turns to me for the paper but he’s avoiding my eyes. “If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”

I wonder if I should push it but maybe he’s right. Maybe now isn’t the right time for the apology.

“Body of a thirty year old. Getting older sucks.” Josh stretches to make his point.

“Is the hairline included in the body of a thirty year old?” I joke, trying to bring it back to a banter rhythm.

“Funny.” Okay, so he’s not ready for that yet.

“Mind of a thirty year old. Same reason as last time. I watched my grandpa lose, ya know, what made him him.” I shrug and sit back down in the chair. Josh retreats to the bed, back against the pillows  but he pauses now, his expression softening.

“You can, uh, sit up here if you wanted.” I nod and move to where he gestured.

“Thanks.” I say awkwardly. We’re both suddenly very aware about how we’re _not_ touching.

“Question seven. Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?” I continue, breathing through the awkwardness. “Statistically a car accident, probably.”

“And you know those statistics, I’m guessing?”

“One in one hundred and three people in the US. Only thing more likely is an opioid overdose. But I think I’ll be fine on that front.”

“Yeah…” I can hear his apprehension in admitting what his answer is. “I mean, I feel like it’s going to be a heart thing or… a head thing.” That makes _my_ heart stop.

“Do you mean…”

“Yeah.”

“Josh, have you been having-”

“No, Donna. Not since then. But you know, you read the pamphlets. There’s not a cure. I was already predisposed to crazy so… ya know. One day.”

“Not one day, Josh. Okay? It can’t… That can’t be…”

“Donna, hey. Don’t get worked up about it.” He drops his hand on my knee. It doesn’t calm me down though. The warmth from his hand and the fact he hasn’t willingly touched me since I quit makes me heart race. I look up at him, he’s staring at his hand as if he’s wondering how that happened. “Just, I’m fine. It’s just a thought. More the heart thing.”

“I don’t like talking about you dying.” I admit quietly. His eyes search my face. I can’t help but think of the GW OR, watching his surgery, terrified I was going to lose the only man I’d ever loved.

“I’m fine, I’m right here.” He whispers back.

“You almost weren’t.” I don’t know if he can tell I’m thinking about Rosslynn but I can feel my lip tremble and I have to drop my gaze to his chest. That just makes me think of the scars though. I’m so lost in thought I don’t realize that he’s put his arm around my shoulders, that he’s changing our position so that my head leans forward onto his chest. From this, I can hear his heartbeat, strong and present if a little quick. What else could you expect from Josh Lyman? I calm down with this knowledge but neither of us pull away even as my breathing slows and we both know I’m fine.

He jostles me for the paper but doesn’t move me from where I am.

“Question eight. Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.” He sucks in a breath. “We both dislike watermelon.” I can’t help but chuckle at the surface level nature of that answer. “We both work for the Santos campaign.” I try not to roll my eyes at that one considering he’s the one who didn’t want me here. I’m glad he can’t see my facial reaction to that. “We both think that how much we care is our downfall.” Well, he just had to save being insightful for last, didn’t he?

I know that my answers could very well upset the balance of the odd calm and closeness we’ve reached. But I was the one with the honest rule.

“We both talk to your mother once a week.”

“What?” He pulls away slightly but I predicted that response. I sit up and look at him. We’re still much closer than we were before and his arms rests on my shoulders.

“Your mom called me when I left. She wanted to make sure I still called her. It was very sweet.” I inform him. Truthfully, those phone calls usually told me how Josh was doing. Ruth didn’t offer that information but there were context clues. If Josh wasn’t doing well or wasn’t talking to her at all, she would avoid the mere mention of him. But if he was doing well, she would toss his name in casually, probably searching for some kind of reaction from me. There were days when those conversation were hard to have. Definitely weird. It made me miss him. But Josh’s mom and I were close and she was more nurturing than my own mother. And I didn’t want to give up what I believed was my last connection with him.

Josh leans forward, removing his arm from around me. He runs his hands through his hair, rubbing his face.

“Oh, of course she did!” He exclaims.

“Are you actually upset about that?”

“No,” He looks over at me, seeing the apprehension on my face. If he’s upset with this one, the other two might have to change. “I’m- just, ya know. It’s very much my mother. She adores you.”

“And that bothers you?”

“No! Donna, that’s not what- I mean, it would have bothered me when you first quit but more I’m just surprised I didn’t put it together.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“She dropped hints, she wanted me to call you.” He looks away from me now, looking slightly embarrassed.

“Ah. That is very your mother.” I can’t help but smile at that. I really do love Ruth. Josh settles back against the headboard, our shoulders matching up.  I brush my hair behind my ears before I continue. “We both aren’t sure how to forgive one another.”

Josh sucks in a breath. I can see he wants to debate me on that.

“I didn’t say it so we can…”

“No. I know. You’re right.” His voice sounds a little strangled. He looks down at his lap instead of at me. I’m surprised that he doesn’t fight me more on it. I almost wish he would. Just so I could stall for the last one. I stare at my lap as well.

“Donna?”

“Yeah?” My voice sounds strangled now.

“You have to do a third one.”

“Yeah.” I don’t add any more. I can feel Josh’s impatience radiate off him.

“Donna…”

“We need alcohol!” I pop up. He looks at me with an eyebrow raised.

“What’s so bad with this last one?”

“Nothing. Just- this would be more fun-”

“We’re supposed to be being honest, Donnatella.”

“Okay! Okay! Jesus.” I sit back down but with my back facing him. “We both are on Zoloft for the same reason.” He doesn’t say anything right away.

“Gaza?” He asks quietly. I can barely hear him. My breathing feels loud to my own ears in this moment.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you… Donna, you have PTSD?” His voice sounds strange and I resist the urge to look at him to figure out what’s going through his head.

“Yeah…”

“When did you…”

“I had a panic attack when getting into an SUV of one of the Russell staffers. Will noticed and covered for me. He said that the insurance covered a psychiatrist.”  I shrug. Now that it’s out there, I can look at him. The guilt is plain as day on his face. “It’s not your fault, Josh.”

“Yes it is!” He exclaims, exploding out of the quiet that had settled between us.

“Josh, it’s not.”

“I should’ve never sent you there! I should’ve known… I should’ve been looking for it…”

“Josh, I knew how to hide it from you. My PTSD is more my fault than yours. And what happened in Gaza is no one’s fault! You could have never known and I pushed you to send me. Josh, it’s not your fault.”

“If you don’t blame me, what were you talking about with forgiving me!?”

“You can’t be serious! Josh, everything we talked about the other day!” I feel my temper rising. I can’t decide if I baited him or he’s baiting me.

“Ah, yes. I forgot! I’m the villain in your story!” He’s getting worked up now. We’ve both stood, the bed between us.

“Josh-”

“I’m just the guy who forced you into what was it? _Grunt level servitude?_ Never mind the fact that it was The White House! Never mind the fact you were never just ANSWERING PHONES or fetching COFFEE!”

“You know damn well I never _fetched_ you coffee.”

“Oh! I’m aware!”

“What? Now you’re mad about that?”

“NO! I’m mad that you’re mad about the rest of it!”

“That’s helpful! Very specific and mature!” I snipe back.

“And what are your specific and mature complaints?! I’d love to know!”

“No, you really wouldn’t!”

“AGH! What even is the point of this?” He picks up the papers and waves them.

“I want-” I cut myself off. Dammit. The angry tears are coming.  “Are you tapping out?” I ask him, my voice firm. He swallows and schools his expression into a mask of aloof calm, something I’ve seen all too often since I joined the Santos campaign.

“Are you?” He retorts.

“No.”

“Then fine.” He pushes the papers to me. I stare at them for a second. My heart is beating pretty hard as that tends to happen when Josh and I fight like this. Not that it’s happened too often. For someone so full of fight and passion, Josh is great at avoiding you when he’s upset with you. “Donna?” Josh’s voice is clipped but not loud like before so I’ll take it as progress. I sit back down on the bed where I had been before. I take the papers from him and wait to see if he’ll sit down.

Eventually it’s clear he’s not ready to do that yet so I just continue, pushing my exasperation into a box to be dealt with later.

“Question ten. For what in your life do you feel most grateful?” I stare at the paper for a minute trying to formulate my answer. “I’m grateful for the opportunities you did give me.”

“I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean.”

“It’s not _supposed_ to mean anything. I’m not trying to… My answer isn’t _pointed_ , Josh. I’m trying to say that I know, I _know_ that working in The White House was a big deal. And a privilege. And I loved working for President Bartlet- it’s something I’ll be proud to tell my grandkids. And I’m grateful that you gave me a chance back then. I’m grateful that I got out of Wisconsin and launched into somewhere I could be ambitious. I am grateful, Josh. I know it doesn’t seem like it. But I am.”

He searches my eyes as if he’s checking for truth. He must see something because he exhales and drops back onto the bed. We’re still sitting pretty far apart though. I ignore that that hurts. That I had a taste of our old dynamic and now it feels like _this_ again.

“I’m grateful that you push me. I know I don’t seem… This is hard. But I’m grateful that you don’t take no for an answer. That you showed up and didn’t ask for a job. That you came back and just started working. That you asked for more when you knew you could do more. That you inspire me to… steal the rest.”

“Fishhooks McCarthy?” I can’t help but smile a little at that. A smile tugs at the sides of his mouth too.

“Yeah. I’m still not convinced he’s not someone you made up.”

“Well, there’s no way to know for sure.” I joke. The smile makes an appearance but he is too practiced at finding his composed mask.

“Next. If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?” Josh scratches his chin. I’m a little fascinated by his hands. “This is obvious. I probably said it last time… But Joanie, I guess.” I don’t know how it happened but I’ve reached for his hand. We both stare at them linked. I squeeze his hand because what do you say to the man you love talking about his dead sister, knowing all the guilt and pain associated with that?

  


THE BARTLET FOR AMERICA CAMPAIGN 1998

“Josh?” We’re wrapped up together now. I’m not sure exactly when that happened. In the course of the first ten questions, I’ve sobered up from the alcohol but become increasingly intoxicated by this little hut of intimacy Josh and I have created. The outside world doesn’t feel real. I am so in love.

“Yeah? Oh. Sorry. I got… distracted.”

“Do you want me to repeat the ques-”

“No. I got it… Have I told you about Joanie?”

“Noooo.”

“My sister,” He coughs as his voice gets tighter. “I don’t tell a lot of people about this. But, uh, Joanie was my sister and she died when I was eight. There was a fire. She was babysitting me and- and I wanted popcorn.” He holds me tighter to him against his chest. I like that that gives him comfort. My heart hurts as he talks about what he’s gone through. “So, uh, if I had to change something, I wouldn’t have asked for popcorn. So she could be… around.” I pull away a little and turn to face him.

“Josh? It wasn’t your fault. You were a little boy.”

“You read me pretty quick.” Josh smiles sadly.

“Josh, it’s not your fault.”

“Donna…”

“It isn’t, Josh.” I rest my hand on his chest. I know this is dangerous territory but the pain in his eyes make me throw caution to the wind. “You walk everywhere as if you, I don’t know. It makes sense. You’re scared that someone will get hurt and it’ll be your fault but Joshua, it’s not your fault.”

His hand reaches up and he plays with my hair. I give him time, I can tell he’s struggling with how to respond.

“It’s surprisingly comforting that you, ya know. Get it. Unless it’s because I’m easy to read. Is my poker face that bad? Sam says-”

“I’m tuned to you.”

“Wha?”

“It sounds, I don’t know. It might be stupid. But I don’t think that other people see that. I didn’t put it together until now and we do spend quite a bit of time together now and I’m just-”

“Tuned to me?” He smiles at that. I reflect that smile back at him. God, I’m so in love with this man. His hand is warm on my hip and it tingles. We should do the next question but the computer is behind me and I don’t care to break eye contact right now.

And then his lips are on mine. And any part of me not touching him melts away.

 

THE SANTOS FOR A BRIGHTER AMERICA CAMPAIGN 2006

 “What are you thinking about?” Josh breaks me from my nostalgia.

“Huh? Oh. Um.” I blush furiously.

“I was, too.” He admits.

Neither of us can look up at each other but won’t look away from our linked hands either.

“It’s your turn to answer.” Josh’s voice sounds a little husky, a fact my body registers before my brain registers his actual words.

“Yeah…” My voice is lower in tone as well. “I wish my parents had higher expectations of me. That they thought I could, or pushed me, to do better. To be more than someone’s wife.” I shrug, it seems shallow when compared to Josh’s answer.

“I hate how your mom talks to you, you know.” I look up at him surprised. He’s still not looking directly at me.

“Josh, she’s just…”

“She belittles you.” He says firmly. I know he’s right but it feels wrong to criticize her. It is validating though to hear him say it. And Josh’s protective side has always been something I alternate between being turned on by, resenting, and feeling grateful for.

“Yeah, that’s why I talk to your mom.” I admit, half joking. He squeezes my hand now. But Josh’s eyes are fixed on a spot on the comforter now.

“What’s next?” He asks. I turn up an eyebrow at the Bartlet phrase but he doesn’t notice. I use my hand that’s not in his to pick up the paper.

“Take four minutes and tell your partner your life story in as much detail as possible.” I check the clock on the nightstand. “So it’s twelve… oh four now. So twelve oh eight. Okay… You know basics. I grew up in a condo in Madison. I’m the youngest. I have two older brothers and an older sister. Fran is the oldest and she’s the… perfect one. I was the _creative_ one but they really meant the _sensitive_ one. Or maybe scatterbrained, I don’t know. I think with my brothers being so stereotypically boyish my mom was exhausted with me and she, ya know, lost her patience a lot with me.” I twist my hands in my lap, feeling uncomfortable having to monologue about myself. I peak at Josh and he’s just listening intently. Though I can see the tinge of irritation about my mom. “I read a lot in school and I didn’t talk a lot- don’t you dare laugh.” Josh suppresses his grin but the smirk pokes through. I roll my eyes. “In high school, the teachers all knew my sister. They expected me, I don’t know. I tried out for cheerleading and made it and no, I do not still have the uniform.” I elbow him lightly at the mischievous grin on his face. “I hated it and quit. I kind of hopped around the cliques in high school. I applied to college and got in a couple of places but my parents didn’t let me go out of state.”

“Wait, where did you apply?” I’m not sure why this detail got his attention but I can’t help the slight blush that dances across my cheeks.

“I _applied_ and was _accepted_ to Yale, sir.”

“Not Harvard?” He smirks. I narrow my eyes at him.

“Wait listed.”

“Ah, not everyone can have a seven sixty-”

“Yeah, you’re right. But some people do get seven eighty.” I smirk back at him. His jaw drops.

“You-you… what!? How did this never come up? You’re messing with me!”

“Nope.” I grin at him but swallow the banter for the moment. “I don’t like talking about that stuff. Like I didn’t even graduate from University of Wisconsin.” I roll my eyes at my own failure.

“Donna-”

“It’s not been four minutes yet and we’re missing a pretty big part of my life.” I’m suddenly eager to get off the topic. He gestures for me to continue. “I, uh, went to college and Stephanie Gault was my roommate and the first year we changed majors and had a lot of fun but then I went home for summer and met Nathan again-”

“Nathan?” Josh asks. His tone gives away that he knows very well who I’m alluding to.

“Yes, Freeride, Joshua. It was supposed to be a summer fling but had just finished undergrad and when he came to the same university… He just, I don’t know. He kind of took over everything. I let him… But yeah. After the second year, I dropped out and I was working an office job and an waitress job while he did med school. Then something happened and I realized I was never going to get out of there if I didn’t run so I did. To the campaign. And-”

“What do you mean something happened?”

“Josh…”

“Donna! It’s supposed to be as much detail as possible.”

“You- Josh, I can’t talk about it with you right now.” I admit, staring down. It’s not something I’m prepared to talk to him about. I can’t deal with him being angry about it even if it’s not directed at me. And as much as I hate to admit it, the trust that was once there isn’t anymore.

Josh takes a couple of calming breaths before reaching for my hand and sandwiching it between his two.

“Okay. It’s okay.” He says quietly. I take a shuddering breath before I continue.

“You know the rest of the story.” I shrug. I look over at the clock and watch it switch from 12:07 to 12:08.

“Donna?” I look back to him. The look in his eyes arrests my heart. “I’m sorry you can’t trust me anymore. Or couldn't before.”

“Josh, I trusted you. Too quickly probably.” I reply without thinking.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Um, I just…” I cover my face with my hands, pulling my right from his. I trusted him so quickly because I fell so entirely in love with him so quickly. I still love him. I know this. But there are layers that have been stripped away over the past year and half of resentment and arguing and frustration. “It’s your turn!” I sit up quickly. He raises a brow at me.

“No, Donna… I just want to say…” I watch him search for the words that he’s feeling. “I’m sorry your family didn’t understand you and made you feel like your feelings weren’t important. You’re not scatterbrained and you deserved to go wherever you wanted for school.”

I want to say that it would’ve been a waste either way but what he said is so thoughtful and kind- it’s hard to believe that he’s the same person who opened the door with such hostility. That is if you didn’t know him.

When I meet his eyes, the trust in them swallow my heart whole. And I think he might, somewhere, deep down, behind his anger with me, still love me too. I don’t know who does it first but our lips meet then we’ve pushed ourselves against one another, adjusting to laying on the bed.

Josh’s hand wraps both of mine and places them above my head. I arch into him as I pull him on top of me. It feels like too much not to touch every part of him to every part me. His hand not on my hands holds him above me. I run my foot along his leg. He shutters as I reach his thigh. He moves his hand from my own, dragging a finger down my neck and over my chest before he palms my breast. I cannot stifle the moan that escapes me. He pulls away to look at me, his eyes burning with lust.

But his expression shifts.

“Donna…”

“Don’t. Just-” I drop the rest of the statement in favor of pulling him to me again, my hands tangling in his curls. He pulls away after kissing me again just as I start to deepen the kiss. I groan in frustration. He flops back onto his back, echoing my groan.

“Donna, maybe this is… This whole thing-” He rubs his hands over his face again. I sit up, feeling embarrassed. “Sorry. I just- I can’t… We were _just_ at each other’s throats and then… I don’t know, Donna.” He’s sounding increasingly frustrated.

“Josh! It’s fine. It’s fine. I get it.” I get off the bed, needing distance. He leans up on his elbows to look at me. “Are you tapping out of the rest of the questions?” I add testily.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Donna…”

“Okay. It’s fine.” I say, turning away, wondering when it actually took a wrong turn. I don’t think it was just this kiss. I feel on fire from being so forward and being rejected but that’s nothing when I think about the idea of Josh calling this off. It’s just a silly exercise in getting close if we were on good terms. But this is the last chance I can give to this.

I’ve given so much of my life to Josh, so much of my heart, so much of my energy. And I love him and I want to see if there’s any way to salvage the friendship but I can’t bear to just sit around and wait for it to happen. And I can’t spend my adult life fighting for him. I’ve finally made a name for myself apart from Josh and I need to know that he’s in this too, that there’s still something to fight for. The idea that he’d willingly let this go because he’s scared of relationship beyond friendship kills me.

“Let’s… why don’t we finish the first set? And we can take a break…” I offer, hating how my voice shakes.

“I don’t know-” I turn around to refute him. He’s sitting on the bed, looking a little lost.

“All you have to do is do your life story then there’s one final question in this set and it’s not a hard one! There’s no room for us to get in a fight or get caught up in… this.” I take a deep breath. “Don’t give up on me, Josh. Just this. Then we can have a break. And come back to it. But let us come back to it, Josh.” I hate that I’m begging. I hate it. But one of us has to be the brave one and he said he was grateful for me pushing him!

I watch the war inside him play out on his features. It feels like years go by as I wait for his response. It’s agonizing.

“Okay. Okay.” Josh finally says. “Let’s do this. Then get some sleep because we have a lot to do tomorrow.” He runs his hands through his hair. His hair that felt so soft in between my fingers a few minutes ago.

Over the next five minutes, Josh tells his life story. I stand by the wall, clutching at the papers like a lifeline. He sits on the bed. We don’t look over at each other much, aside from the parts where I’d like to be able to squeeze his hand or wrap him in an embrace, when he’s talking about Joanie or his dad. His eyes sparkle when he talks about his days as a congressional aide with Sam. I hear the frustration in his voice when he talks about Toby. He ends his story with me coming back to him that April. We both stare holes into the carpet.

He takes the papers from me. I look up surprised that he’s this close all of a sudden. He doesn’t go back to the bed but stands with me.

“If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be? You were right. This is a softball.” I shrug, still living in the awkwardness of the moment as I hadn’t talked since I begged him to stay, to try to fix this with me. “I guess, mind reading. It’d be helpful in politics… And with you.” My eyes flash to his.

“What’s that mean?”

“You read me like a children’s picture book, Donna. I can’t do that with you.”

“I’m more open with you than most.”

“I know… I just, I wish I could know what you were thinking sometimes.” He shrugs and steps back.

“I’d choose.. This is less fantastical but speed reading.” I sigh and he lets out a bark of a laugh. “That was mean.”

“I’m not laughing at you! I just… And you say I’m predictable.”

“You are.”

We both laugh for a second but we both realize at the same time that this set of the experiment is done and we have no reason to still be with each other, that we were going to take a break now.

“You could-could stay here. We have to be up in a few hours anyways.” Josh offers.

“And the two minute walk to my room is going to really take away from my sleep?” I retort.

“Just… Just stay.” His eyes are open and trusting again and this rollercoaster of a night weighs on my eyelids.

“Okay.” I nod and he takes my hand.

We get into bed, he loans me large shirt to wear. Like how it used to be when I’d sleep in his room or his apartment because it got too late or we were too drunk. But we don’t cuddle up to each other this time. We mind the gap between the two of us.

“Night, Donnatella.” Josh whispers as he gets comfortable. It’s the first time he’s said my full name in so long it feels like a caress even though we aren’t touching. It gives me hope to fall asleep with, hope that the 36 questions are working. That Josh and I might just make it through this- with our health, strength, and love. We’ll steal the rest.


	3. Set II Part I

THE SANTOS FOR A BRIGHTER AMERICA CAMPAIGN 2006

 

The bed is warmer than it should be. That’s the first thing I notice. Then I notice a leg that’s certainly not mine wrapped around my waist. Then I feel the pin pricks in my arm that suggests its fallen asleep from the weight of another human on it. The final clue that Donnatella Moss is in my bed, wrapped around me, is the smell of her lavender shampoo and the vaguely fruity, sweet smell that I’ve never been able to assign to anything specific other than Donnatella herself.

And then I remember last night.

I remember her coming in to the war room, looking exhausted, looking for something to do. I remember being frustrated that she wasn’t taking care of herself, trying to get her to understand that there wasn't anything more for her to do and she should get some rest. Not that I could say any of that. So I probably just seemed like a jerk.

I remember seeing her through the keyhole twenty minutes after I stormed out of the war room, exasperated by my inability to communicate with her anymore, hurt by my inability to look her in the eyes these days. Then she showed up on my doorstep with papers and I thought for the first time in my life,  _ why can’t these poll numbers wait til tomorrow!? _ Then I opened the door to her. Her eyes were brighter than they had been when I had last seen her. It made my heart ache for the days when her eyes never seemed to lose that sparkle.

I know I was a jerk when she wanted to talk but I didn’t think I was ready to forgive her, I wasn’t ready to face her. When she revealed that she wanted to do the thirty six questions, there was a part of me that screamed  _ hell no.  _ But there was a larger part of me that wouldn't bear to turn her down. She’d said if we can’t do this then that would be it for us. That she’d give up on us, that she wouldn't keep doing this pseudo working dysfunctional relationship. Maybe those weren’t her exact words but I can read between the lines. 

She doesn’t move but I can sense that she’s awake now. I don’t know whether to pretend to be asleep so that we don’t have to face the fact that we’re cuddling a la better times of Josh and Donna. However, knowing Donna, she knows I’m awake- in the same way I knew she was. I’m not sure what to say. I don’t think she does either. But neither of us want to move from the other’s warmth. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this. I don’t want it to slip away with the morning.

Then I get an idea. I reach over and grab the papers with the questions. I can feel Donna smile against my chest. She must have nervous about what I’d say too.

“If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?” My voice is a little groggy and I’m sure my breath isn’t all sunshine and daisies but I miss talking to Donna. Even when I was frustrated last night, there were pieces of me that were finally soothed from being able to talk to her again, to make her laugh or make her mad or make her go off on a tangent. The cadence of her voice- the kind that she slipped into when it’s just the two of us- was healing.

“I think I’d wanna know what happens next, ya know? Like the next chapter. Does that make sense?” Her voice is quiet in the morning. Not that she needs to be any louder given our proximity. 

“It makes sense but it’s vague.” I shrugged. I wasn’t going to push her too hard on it. I’d rather not start the day arguing.

“Okay…” I can hear the cogs turning in her brain, figuring out how to word whatever it was she wanted to convey. “I guess I want to know if I’m fated to be the spinster aunt. Whether I’ll have a family of my own one day.”

I sat in the quiet of our hotel room, thinking up a response. I was distracted by the vision of Donna holding and smiling at a light-haired swaddled baby in her arms. My chest felt light at the first thought. But then some unnamed man came into the vision next to her and my heart grew heavy. I want Donna to have that happiness. I know she loves kids. I know she loves being an aunt. I don’t know why I haven’t thought about her being a mother before. Maybe I just wasn’t ready to think about it. I’m not sure if I’m ready to face it yet either.

“You will.” I reply in a low volume. She hugs me tighter for that. I’m glad I seemed to have said the right thing. I wonder if she could hear the sadness in my voice.

“What about you? What would you wanna know?” Donna asks me, getting us back on more emotionally even ground.

“Easy. I wanna know if Santos will win reelection.” I know it sounds like a joke but it’s true. Furthermore, it’s strategic. If I find out if he wins  _ re _ election, then I’d know that won  _ this _ election. Two for the price of one.

“Of course.” Donna chuckles at me. She sits up at this point, against the headboard, so she can read the next question. “Is there something that you’ve dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it?”

“I want to buy back our home in Connecticut. I haven’t because there’s not really a point right now. It seems silly to have a condo and a home, especially one I’d never be at. It’s not like I I’m home much as is in D.C.”

“It’s still a lovely idea.” Donna smiles at me. I shrug. “Don’t you dare say I’m predictable but I want to go to Hawaii.” I hold on my laugh for that one. Of course. “And for obvious reasons I haven’t been able to. And I’d think it’d be lonely to go to Hawaii all alone.”

“I thought I was supposed to take you?” I joked, poking her shoulder. She smiled down at me.

“Well… Since you’ve offered.” She tosses back.

“I make no promises.” I reply. In my head, I do promise though. I’m going to take Donna to Hawaii one day. As long as we can fix our relationship- and in this morning that feels well within the realm of possibility. Things feel good, like  _ before. _ “What is the greatest accomplishment of your life?” I ask.

“Spokesperson for the Santos Campaign, duh.” This makes me grin. Last night before we got into the questions I might’ve thought that was a remark on my reluctance to hire her. But right now, without the haze of bitterness and insecurity, I can recognize it for what it is- Donna being proud of herself for how far she’s come.

“Right now It’s winning the primary with a dark horse candidate. Hopefully that answer will change come November 5th… Duh.” I add at the end, making fun of her a little.

“You do have a lot to be proud of with that primary win.” Donna replies.

“Yeah, you and Will didn’t make it easy for me.” I shrugged. It’s the truth. They both made my life a particular kind of hell. “What do you value most in a friendship?” My stomach turns at this one. I know what my answer is. And I’m worried it might make this Switzerland situation we have right now go awry.

“Availability… emotionally as well as just physically there.” I didn’t realize her answer would feel pointed too. We both know I’m not the most emotionally mature person- especially when it comes to the two of us. And lately, we haven’t spent quality time with each other. We can hardly work in the same room now. I can’t help the sigh that escapes me. “What?” I recognize the defensiveness in her tone.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Josh.”

“It’s nothing- I just… we were having a nice morning.”

“We still are?” Her defensive tone is evidence enough to prove her own statement wrong. I look at the clock to avoid this conversation for a second longer but it scares any remnants of calm out of me.

“Shit! It’s already seven! Donna, we have to get ready.” I jump out of bed. She crosses her arms across her chest.

“You’re running away from this at the first note of disagreement? We disagreed plenty last night!” Donna was clearly annoyed with me, mistaking my urgency to get out of bed as avoidance. I roll my eyes, annoyed right back at her, and start busying myself getting ready. It’s easier to be annoyed with her if I don’t have to look at her.

“Donna, it’s  _ seven! _ The Congressman has a breakfast at 8 and I have to prep him and I have to meet with Lou about our Daily Show appearance tonight and I need to know the results of that poll!” I list off as I pull my shirt off and my pants on. I briefly wonder if I should be this comfortable about getting dressed in front of Donna. In my rush, my instincts are kicking in and my instincts don’t particularly care if Donna sees me in just my underwear. It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before.

“You’re acting like it’s 7:59 when it’s only 7:01! This is very typical of you, Josh.” Her condescending tone passes through my like match.

“Again! With the goddamn predictability! If you know my every move already, why do you bother playing!?” I don’t care that my voice is raised. She’s out of bed now and I’m frustrated enough that I don’t have the inclination to ogle her legs.

“Because  _ sometimes _ you can surprise me. Because sometimes you can actually act like an adult man. You think I like being this person? You think I like nagging you?”

“Never seemed to bother you before.” I snapped. I regretted it instantly.

“You’re such an ass!” Donna yells at me when she finds her voice in her anger.

“I didn’t mean it, okay?” I say testily. It’s a weak attempt at an apology.

“Oh, yes. Yes, you did. Jesus, I woke up on top of you and you still think of me as your mother.” 

“I do  _ not _ have time to explain just how wrong that statement is!” I snap back, trying to focus on buttoning my shirt. “I’m sorry I don’t have time to play the question game right now. I have an actual job to do, you know.” Shit. Okay. I didn’t mean it how I can plainly see she’s taking it.

“Oh? Because dealing with the press isn’t a real job? You wanna try running this campaign without reporters on your side? Because trust me! If they had to deal with your sunny disposition, Seth Gilette would have a better chance than Santos!”

She’s not wrong.

“That’s not what I meant! I just- I have to go okay?!” I finish tying my tie. “We can do finish this set… later.”

“Fine.” She says quietly which is worse than her yelling. She looks for her clothes and starts pulling on her pants from last night. God, what if someone sees her coming out of my room in the clothes from the day before? I look at the ceiling, feeling all sorts of anxiety. Then I feel her hands on my shoulders. I’m not ready to look down just yet.

“We were having a nice morning, weren’t we though?”

“Yeah.” The lump in my throat is audible. I’m a bit emotional thinking about those first quiet moments, as my brain realized the scent of Donna and the feel of Donna and the movement of Donna. With that thought, I bring my forehead down to hers. Her ocean blue eyes stare into mine and leaves me feeling exposed but warm all the same.

“Thanks for doing this though.” She whispers.

“Thanks for having the idea. And for dealing with me.” I whisper back.

A knock at the door tears us apart.

“Yeah?” I call out, cursing whoever broke the moment even though I knew it needed to be.

“The Congressman is asking where you are.” Ronna’s voice comes through the door. Ah, politics- it waits for no romantic.

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute. Tell Edie to have the polls ready for me too.”

It’s quiet for a minute as Ronna walks away and Donna and I readjust.

“I’m going to head down. Feel free to ya know, use the shower or whatever.” I feel awkward, like it’s the end of some kind of one night stand.

“I’ll use mine. It has my stuff. You head out though. I’ll be down in a little while.”

“Ahkay.” For all my urgency a few minutes ago, I feel none of it now. I want to stay in this room, in this bubble where Donna and I are on speaking terms. Where I don’t feel cold in her presence. When I refocus my gaze on Donna, I see her expression change, making a decision, just in time.

Donna kisses me. For, maybe, three seconds. When she pulls apart, I think my eyes are the size of her fists. The next thing I know she’s pushing me out the door.

“Okay. See you tonight. Well, probably before. I’m the one briefing you on The Daily Show appearance. Anyways.” The door is open and Donna stands behind it, out of sight. I narrow my eyes at her, trying to figure her out. Damn, I wish I could her mind. In lieu of that possibility, I make a split second decision. I plant one on her lips right back.

“Bye.” I’m grinning as I stride out of the room. I make it about four steps outside in the hallway before my grin drops and my shoulders clench at this morning’s implications. I spend the elevator ride switching into work mode though.

_ Whatever,  _ I tell myself,  _ Donna and I have always been complicated. What’s a few more knots in our tangled mess? _

 

THE BARTLET FOR AMERICA CAMPAIGN 1998

 

_ Donna, Donna, Donna _ . My brain chants as I come into consciousness. My head hurts from alcohol and my body feels worn out from… Donna. Oh my god. It all comes rushing back to me. The questions. The intimacy. Telling her about Joanie. Her telling me she’s tuned to me. Us attacking each other’s bodies with a voraciousness that the moment required.

I should stop thinking about that. I should try to keep  _ it _ down before Donna wakes up thinking I’m a perv. Or would she want to go at it again? Would she ask more questions?

Yes, we kept up the questions as we did it. Both times.

I don’t think I’ll soon forget her attempting to name three things we had in common as I went down on her. Good lord. Incredible.  _ Donna, Donna, Donna _ . My brain seems caught up in this melody of her name thrice.

She kisses my chest when she wakes up. We’re at it again, this time slow and lazy and even more intimate than before. We hold each other’s faces as we lay after. I feel her reach for the questions and I can’t help but laugh.

“Oh. You never answered what you value most in a friendship.” She says, sitting up. As she does, the sheet slips and my brain goes to putty. When I don’t respond, she looks down. Seeing my gaze, she pulls up the  sheet and gives me a playful but withering glare indicating that I should focus. I sigh as my two new best friends are hidden under the sheet.

“Uh, loyalty. I can’t be close with someone I can’t trust. Loyalty is the key to that.” I give my honest answer.

“I’m not going to abandon you again, you know that right?” I know she’s referring to her leaving for those few weeks for Freeride. Oddly I feel pretty secure in that she won’t leave me. The Donna that I’ve come to know is someone I can trust implicitly.

“Nor I, you.” I sit up to look her in the eyes at this. The soft smile this earns me is worth the vulnerability. She places her head on my shoulder and waits for me to ask the next question. “What is your most treasured memory?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN hi hi thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed this- I’m sorry it’s taken so long I’ve been busy trying to get my life in order and actually watching shows that aren’t the West Wing believe it or not! But I really wanna finish this fic! So this is part I of the second set of questions. I’m hoping to get part II up this week- I’m thinking I will be able to because It’ll give me an excuse to avoid my family during this trip. The best cure to writer’s block!   
> Also those of you who supported me in my rage against my teacher THANK YOU I treasure you (and everyone else who reviewed)  
> Pretty please leave a review!! I love hearing from you all!!!


	4. Set II Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a pocket of smut in this chapter so if you're a baby don't read

THE BARTLET FOR AMERICA CAMPAIGN 1998

 

Throughout the next few days, the campaign kicked into high gear, leaving Josh and I little time to do the 36 Questions but whenever the opportunity arose we’d continue. Our relationship continued in that same vein. When we found ourselves alone with a little bit of time, we’d wrap around one another with the ease and comfort of a long term couple. But other than those moments, we continued our not-so-traditional professional relationship. Our glances across the room to one another went from being accidental and shy to deliberate and heated or playful and warm.

During debate prep, Toby and Leo were going at it again over social security and I slid a piece of paper over to Josh. Josh smiled already figuring what it was going to be. He opened the paper to find the question,  _ If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why? _

Josh took the pen I offered him and began writing. If you’d told me two weeks ago, he’d be more interested in playing a silly question game with  _ me _ than getting into the ring with Leo and Toby on policy, I would have scoffed. But we were both feeling the bubbly feelings of the honeymoon phase of a relationship. It also made him feel invincible, he told me last night when I questioned him. Like nothing could touch him, like he could do anything. When a man tells you that, your heart skips a beat and you kiss the daylights out of him.

_ I’d take you to Hawaii. I’d visit my mother more. I’d tell Leo about you and I. I’d play more pranks on CJ. I’d eat an endless stream of Red Vines. _ Josh wrote back to me. I attempted to tamp down my smile at the Hawaii comment. The thing about Josh telling Leo made me stomach flutter. We haven’t really discussed how this is going to work. We’ve just been making it up as we go along. I’m not sure if I can do the whole secret relationship thing. 

Josh hands me then pen once I finish reading. I try to think about what to write but I’m coming up empty, my brain circling the drain of Josh telling Leo. Would he fire us? Would he make Josh fire me? Would he just move me to someone else’s assistants?

When he saw I wasn’t writing, Josh nudges my leg. So I sigh and give the best answer I can even if I’m not sure it’s the whole truth.

_ I changed most of what I needed to by coming to this campaign. I’m pretty happy now. And don’t let that go to your head.  _ I stare at the answer. I think if we were talking he’d see I was holding back but I don’t think he’ll notice anything just from the words on the page. On second thought I add,  _ And I’d have an endless supply of gelato. _

  
  


THE SANTOS FOR BRIGHTER AMERICA CAMPAIGN 2006

 

People are looking at us like we’ve gone insane. No one is used to the Josh and Donna that get along. Well,  _ getting along _ might be a stretch but we’re summoning that team of two thing we had going on for so long. Earlier in a strategy meeting, Josh and I riffed off one another for a solid fifteen minutes and by the end of it, we had a solid plan for a new ad campaign. The room was equally impressed and confused. I think we were too.

Last time Josh and I played the questions out intermittently. But with our jobs now and our relationship where it’s at, I don’t think we can afford that. I’m itching to talk to finish the second set of questions. I want to see where it leaves us. Plus, according to the rules, Josh can still call this whole thing off if he decides to in this set of questions. If we just get to the third set, he has to follow through. And I know Josh- he’s a man of his word.

So I spend an inordinate amount of energy on shifting my mental energy away from Josh. Which might be counterproductive. But campaign life gives me plenty to put on my plate so I kind of spend the day running around like a chicken without its head.

By the time everyone else breaks for dinner, I’m exhausted so I just head up to my room. I haven’t seen Josh in the past hour or so and I’m grateful for the few seconds alone on the elevator.

I close my eyes and lean my head back against the cool of the elevator wall. I wonder what Josh has been up to since I saw him last before I left for a meeting with the guy from WaPo. When I came back to the war room, the candidate was in his suite and and the few people I ventured to ask didn’t know where Josh went. The elevator pinged open but I wouldn't bring myself to open my eyes. Whoever it was could deal with seeing some exhausted campaign worker half asleep.

I heard the person step in. And smiled. I’m not sure what clued me into it being Josh. But I knew it was. Something about the energy in the air. It crackles with him around. The scientists at CalTech should be looking into  _ that _ , instead of string theory.

I think we’re both aware that I know it’s him but we don’t say anything. I wait for the third ping, where I’m supposed to get off but when I open my eyes to the doors opening, Josh is reaching for the close doors button.

“I’m getting off here?” I say confused. He gives me an award-winning smile and shakes his head yes. Maybe he wants to continue the questions in his room? I mean, I would appreciate a moment to myself to freshen up a little. But I probably would end up falling asleep in the armchair- or worse, the toilet. It wouldn’t have been the first time on the campaign trail that I’ve done so.

When the elevator pings open to the fourth floor, he gestures for me to exit. I narrow my eyes at him but exit the elevator regardless. When we get to his door, he just hands me his key card. I sigh dramatically and he rolls his eyes at me. I swipe the card and open the door.

_ Holy shit. _

I turn back to Josh, I’m sure my eyes are as big as saucers. He looks nervous. Silly man, how could I possibly react that would make him nervous? This is… Something out of a romcom. In this tiny hotel room, Josh has set up a candlelit dinner for us. There are flowers on the table and the dinner smells delicious. Then I see the name on the bag. I turn back to him again, this time with tears in my eyes.

“No. Oh, no. I didn’t mean to make you cry- don’t do that. Stop that. Your lip. It’s doing a thing. Stop-” I cut Josh’s rambling off by crushing him into a hug. The air goes out of him and then I feel him relax.

“How did you find Amelio’s here!?” I exclaim, referring to the name on the food bag.

“I was taking a walk, thinking. And I saw it. I didn’t know they had restaurants outside of D.C. and Virginia and it seemed, ya know, perfect.”

The first night that I moved to D.C. Josh took me to Amelio’s. Ever since I was hooked. We’d go there at least once a week. And it was always a moment of reprieve when we sat down with our various Italian dishes from the business of our lives- it gave Josh and I a moment to ourselves, to one another. I haven’t been back to Amelio’s since the week that I quit.

I pull back from the hug and wipe my eyes quickly, feeling a little embarrassed at how affected I am. 

“But why all this?” I ask, gesturing at the candles and flowers. Josh tenses at this and I feel bad. I didn’t mean to sound so unappreciative. I just feel like I’m two steps behind.

“I’ve been an ass.” Josh shrugs. I give him a small smile.

“I’m not completely innocent though. I appreciate the gesture though. You are a man of occasion. And I’m starving.” My stomach growls right on cue and this brings a laugh out of Josh. I want to bathe in that sound. We sit down to eat and I notice the questions sitting in the center but Josh and I end up just talking most of the time. We talk about work- not obsessively or like boss-employee but just as two people who love what it is that they do. We talk about our families- the happy parts at least. His mom has been recommending her romance novels to him as hints that he’s getting too old to be single.We laugh at some of the titles. I’m sure Josh is making some of them up. We talk about my brother and his kids. My youngest nephew just started walking and I pull up a picture and show Josh on my phone. I roll my eyes as he realizes you can send pictures over text.

But eventually we get down to business as we go for seconds on pasta.

“What is your most treasured memory?” Josh asks. I inhaled deeply, steeling myself for my answer, to be honest.

“The second inauguration, when you came to get me. You had this look in your eyes and I don’t know. I felt so stupid and alone and then you just bulldozed past those feelings and made me feel like me again. And you… you telling me I look amazing. I just changed the subject because I didn’t know how to deal with how you were looking at me. That night… dancing, smiling with you. Yeah, that’s my most treasured memory.”

He’s looking at me with those eyes again now.

“Donna…”

“Okay. Your turn. What’s your most treasured memory?”

“Are you changing the subject because you don’t know how to deal with how I’m looking at you?” He replies with a bit of snark. I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at him.

“Yes.” I pay close attention to a bite of lasagna. Josh snorts at me.

“Alrighty… It’s when you woke up from the second surgery in Germany. I had just been with your mom and Collin watching you sleep, all of us going through a million scenarios in our heads. I was terrified. And they left and I was just in this world of fear and hate, watching the news coverage. And then you said my name. Your voice was groggy and low and I thought I was imagining it at first. Then I realized you were awake and you were okay and everything aligned again, like the lights came back on in the world.”

I don’t have much of a memory of that first time. Everything was still so groggy. But I do remember him saying  _ I’m still here. _ I remember the desperation in his eyes and the curve of his mouth. I remember feeling safe enough to fall asleep because he was at my side. I blinked back tears thinking about it. Josh and I reached for each others hand across the table in the same moment.

“Thank you for being there.”

“Thank you for being here.”

We sat quietly for a long time. Josh seemed to snap out of it first.

“What is your most terrible memory?” He asks me. He rubs a hand over his eyes and I wonder if these questions are a little much.

“I wasn’t honest with you the first time.”

“Looking back, I figured that.” Josh shrugged. I had told him the first time that I couldn’t really think of anything specific.  I play with my hands in my lap, wrestling with wanting to be honest and not wanting to discuss certain things in my past. “Do you want me to go first?” Josh offers. I nod slowly. I just don’t have the courage to talk about this yet.  “My answer has changed. As horrible as everything with Joanie was, it’s been a long time and I know now, at least in my rational brain, that it wasn’t my fault… And it’s not like it was all in my head. Getting diagnosed with PTSD by Stanley. In those few minutes between him telling me and Leo reassuring me, it felt like the rug had pulled out from under me. Like I’d been betrayed by myself. And I was so mad that I couldn’t keep it together. That you and everybody else had seen through everything I’d tried so hard to hide behind. And I thought I was going to have to resign and I thought I was going to be alone. I thought I was going to be alone with this thing stuck in my head and I didn’t see how it was going to get better… I felt better after talking to Leo and then you sat beside me all night in the emergency room and at home…” Josh concludes.

“You looked like a ghost those first few days. And you kept looking surprised every time I’d show up.” I reply.

“Yeah, I had this running theory you were going to decide I was more trouble than I was worth.” Josh smiles wryly. Given his tone, I wonder if he believes that’s why I left- that he was too much trouble.

“Josh, that’s not why I left.”

“What? Yeah, I know.” Josh shrugs. I don’t believe him but I don’t think now is the time to push him on it.

“Okay…” I stall. “I guess it’s my turn to open up…”

“Like an oyster.” Josh smiles at me, trying his best to be supportive and keep the tone not quite as heavy. I know that it won’t work. I’m scared about his reaction.

“Josh, this isn’t… I don’t tell people about this.” My face feels hot. His expression gets serious again.

“Donna, you can tell me. I’ll listen, I’m not judging. I’m just here.” His promise means more to me than he knows. I take a deep breath.

“So I talk about my family with you but I never mention my dad…” I say then pause staring at the food. I don’t want this to change how Josh sees me. I’ve never wanted to be seen as a victim and I’m an adult woman now. These ghosts can’t continue to haunt me forever.

“Donna? You don’t have to-” Josh begins but I cut him off.

“No. I can do this. I just… I’m still the same person you know?”

“I know.”

“My dad… He got fired one day because of his drinking. He came home early. He found me with a boy in my room.” I deliver each sentence in a monotone voice, as if I’m telling facts rather than a story of the worst day of my life.  “He was just a friend, we were studying. But the door was closed accidentally and my dad got upset. He made my friend leave then he-” I cut myself off to take a shuddering breath. I could picture these moment vividly. “He- my dad… I was fourteen. He just kept yelling about how I was a  _ slut _ and that I deserved to be punished and I-I just sat there. And my mom got home. And she tried to calm him down which didn’t work. He left and the door slammed so hard it came off one of the hinges. He came back hours later, drunk.” I swallowed hard. I couldn’t look at Josh but I  _ had  _ to. His eyes were filled with concern but behind that concern was an anger that he was clearly trying to temp down until I finished. I looked away and continued before he could say anything. “You might be able to surmise the rest of the story from there. He came home, yelling more about me and my siblings were home at this point… My sister and I huddled together in her room. My brother went to tell him off. I don’t know why he thought-” I choke up at this point, picturing my brother bleeding. Josh stands up and pulls me into his arms. I can’t help the tears. I hate them but I can’t help them. “He hit him, again and again and I just wanted it to stop and he-he-” I’m not sure how clear my words were but Josh just hugged me tighter and I knew I was safe but I still could feel the fear from that awful day.

After a bit of blubbering on Josh’s shoulder, I pull away and wipe my tears on my sleeve.

“Anyways, my sister called the cops when I left the room to help my brother and I-I… It wasn’t long after that. He was arrested. He didn’t come back after he was released. I haven’t seen him since.” Josh continued to rub my back.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Donna.” Josh replies. His own voice sounds thick with emotion.

“I know.” I tell him, leaning my forehead into the nook of his shoulder.

“I’m sorry you had to relive it by telling me. I am glad that I know though. God, Donna, I wish I could protect you from what happened in the past. I wish I could get the President to give your brother some kind of medal.”

I squeeze him tight to me once more and step back.

“Okay. Enough of all that. Next question.” I start.

“Are you sure? We can take a break.” Josh offers.

“No. I want the distraction.” I tell him honestly. He nods. “If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why?” I read off.

“I’d work my ass off to get Santos elected… But I’d take a little bit of time off to spend time with my mom and I’d… well… I would do this more.” He says and before I can ask for clarification on  _ this _ , he reaches for me and before I know it, his lips are on mine. He pulls away after a few passionate seconds. “Was that okay?” He sounds nervous, like his timing was bad. But this is just the right distraction. I smile and then pull him roughly back to my lips.

Before I know it, I’m pushing him to the bed and I’ve removed his jacket. When he moves his lips to my neck, his hands in my hair, I let out a moan.

“You’re fucking beautiful.” Josh grumbles under his breath. I push him backwards so that he falls on the bed. I manage to stay standing. He looks up at me, all dissheveled, on his elbows. He raises a brow, waiting for me. I smirk a bit as his expression changes as my hands start unbuttoning my blouse. He’s breathing hard by the time I throw the lilac blouse at him. “Good god.” Josh groans. I think he may have sniffed my shirt. That turns me on for some odd reason. “Would you get down here please?” His voice is gravelly and it goes straight to below my stomach. I straddle him but don’t lean down to his face. He pouts and I smirk again. But he just narrows his eyes and before I know it, I’m on my back with him over me, between my thighs.

“Oh god.” I breathe out as he gives me a heated look and kisses down my chest. He pays attention to all the right places but struggles a bit unhooking my bra. I have to help him a bit but a frustrated Josh usually leads to a more dominant Josh and that leads to more orgasms for me. Or at least it has in the past. It’s been a while since we’ve done this.

As the thought weasels its way into my brain, I feel nervous and self conscious as Josh kisses my stomach. What are we doing? Is this what we do now? It’s not like we’ve really fixed anything, is it? Is this healthy? I don’t even notice that Josh has stopped moving at first but I look back down and he’s looking at me with questioning eyes. There’s lust there but there’s also vulnerability.

“Sorry. I’m overthinking.” I decide to continue being honest. “Are we… What is this?” I voice some of the questions in my head. Josh rolls off me on to his back next to me. I resist the urge to cover up.

“I didn’t mean to rush you.”

“I know! You didn’t. I rushed it if anyone did.” I roll onto my side to look at him. He looks over at me, making a valiant effort that makes me smile to keep his eyes above my neck.

“Then… why did we stop?” Josh grins a little but there’s still vulnerability in his eyes shining through his facade.

“Should we be doing this? Is this… what we do now?”

“Are you asking me what it means?” Josh replies. A chill that has little to do with the temperature and more to do with insecurity runs through me. I shrug. “Donnatella?” I look back at him, he’s looking at me like he’s trying to figure me out.

“Joshua?” I tease but it falls flat.

“I’m not just trying to get you in bed.” A blush drowns my cheeks.

“I know that.” I tell him.

“Do you?” Josh asks. He mirrors me and moves to his side, head on his hand. “Donna, it’s never been about the sex for me.” Since when is Josh the one better able to navigate putting words to feelings?

“It hasn’t for me either.” I tell him. I take the risk and put my hand on his chest. He leans in slow, taking his sweet time, to get to my lips. We start off slow but it heats up quick. Before I know it, his chest is bare and he’s kissing down my stomach again.

He unzips my pants with his teeth and it’s such a turn on that I have to place my hand over my mouth. Josh reaches up and moves it though, his feelings clear on me holding back verbally.

He mouths me through my lacey underwear, groaning when he sees it at first. Once he’s pulled me to the edge with the material between us he pulls away to pull them off. It doesn’t take him long to bring me to the brink again with his tongue and two of fingers. But what really pushes me over the cliff is his groan that vibrates through me as he does this. The louder I get, the more enthusiastic he is.

I pull him back up to me after my second orgasm. I taste myself on his mouth and pull at his curls. He grunts when I pull particularly hard. I can feel that he likes when I do that though. He rolls his hips into mine and I get impatient. I hurry to unzip his pants. He groans again and pulls me over on top of him.

I kiss down his chest now, rolling my hips, torturing him a little.

“You’re-” Deep breath. “Killing.” Grunt. “Me.” Long moan. I love that I can do this to him. I travel back up to kiss him some more. He pulls at my hair and the sensation shoots to between my hips. I roll my hips involuntarily when he attacks my neck with his lips.This gets us both impatient to pull off his pants and his boxers. Before I sink onto him, we make eye contact and there’s a softness behind the heat in his gaze that melts my heart.

  
  


Later we lay on our sides, looking at the other, hands lazily exploring.

“That was nice.” Josh says. I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. There was nothing  _ nice _ about that. Animalistic, yes. Explosive, yes. Terrific, yes. But nice? Not so much. “What?” He’s grinning at me.

“Nice?” I say with a bit of sass on my tongue.

“Okay… I can’t adjective right now.”

“Or verb apparently.”

“Shut up. You fried my brain. It’s your fault.” He pouts. I giggle. “I love your laugh.” Josh looks surprised when the words leave his mouth, like he wasn’t meaning to say that. “God, you really did fry my brain.”

“What? So you don’t love me laugh?” I tease.

“I do. I just can usually avoid saying so.” Josh admits.

“I can think of at least two specific times you’ve made fun of my laugh.” I accuse him.

“Yeah. To avoid saying so.” He taps his temple, alluding to his intelligence. I laugh again. A dork. I’m in love with a dork. “See. It’s a great laugh.” He brings his fingers to my face, outlining my lips gently before kissing me. We share a moment after, looking into each other’s eyes. I wonder what he sees when he looks into my eyes.

  
  


A while later we both sat up in bed eating the cannolis Josh splurged on, him wearing the terrycloth robe provided by the hotel and me wearing his button up. We also had broken into the room service champagne that we called up in a post-orgasmic haze.

“What does friendship mean to you?” Josh asks me.

“I think when you become close friends with someone your senses of humor adjust to like a specific channel with that person. So I think friendship to me is finding the person who’s just as amused as you with whatever weird specific thing makes you laugh. Does that make sense?”

“Not really.” He shrugs, smiling.

“Shut up.” I hit his shoulder lightly.

“You have to ask me.” Josh says. I roll my eyes.

“What does friendship mean to you, Joshua?” I ask. He grabs my face and kisses the sense out of me. “What was that for?” I ask as he pulls away. He’s smiling like he got away with stealing cookies out of the cookie jar.

“My answer.”

“Kissing is friendship?” I sass back.

“Nooo.” He says. “It’s being comfortable, it’s having a trust in that person that you can just be.”

“So you kiss Sam and Toby like that?”

“Toby, god no.” Josh wrinkles his nose.

“But Sam?” I ask, now actually curious. I’d always wondered a bit I guess. Josh hides his face behind his hands.

“We have. When a little drunk and young…” Josh trails off.

“Josh, it’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it.” I tell him, taking his hands away from his face.

“I’m not. And I’m not gay. We were just… I don’t know.”

“People are bi, Joshua.”

“I don’t know if that’s it. I know people are. I don’t think I am. It was Sam. It was that time. Just getting out law school and being nowhere on the totem pole of politics. And we spent a lot of time together and it wasn’t so much about us both being men rather than us just being us… But it’s been more than a decade that I’ve felt that for Sam.”

I picture an alternate reality where the two of them come to terms with their feelings for one another. The idea of a happy Josh with another person usually pinches at the sensitive spot on my heart but if he were with Sam, I think I’d be happy for him. 

Josh coughs and changes the subject. “Ask the next question.”

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“Uh… not much until like tonight…” Josh says looking equally sheepish and proud of himself.

“That’s not true. What about your mother? Your friends?” I ask.

“Well, yeah. My mother is so affectionate and loving it could blow your socks off. But friends? Not so much lately.” Josh looks sad. It makes me sad.

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t just losing you. It’s Sam being in California. It’s CJ and the Chief of Staff job and the wedge we swore it wouldn’t drive between us. Then there’s Toby.” Josh rubs at his head like the mere thought gives him a headache. Josh stands. He starts ranting a bit about Toby’s pigheadedness. About his attitude. About their fight during the primary when they came to the White House. About his frustration with Toby leaking information. But through all this, I think I can see the real issue.

“Josh?”

“Yeah?” He lets out an exhale as he slows his roll and stops his ranting.

“You should call him. You should see him when we go to D.C. next week.”

“No. I can’t! The last thing this campaign needs-”

“This isn’t about the campaign.” I tell him. I stand and go over to him, placing my hands around his shoulders. “It’s about you and your brother. You guys need to find a way to talk through all  _ this. _ ”

“I don’t know if we can, Donna.”

“You can. It’s friendship, Josh.”

“So that’s what friendship means? Pissing each other off?”

“No but it is half of being family. Pissing each other off and forgiving each other.”

“You’re pretty smart.” Josh says after going quiet for a minute or two.

“Thanks, boss.” I smile. Josh rolls his eyes.

“I’ve always hated when you called me that. I especially hate it when you’re wearing my shirt, this close to me.” Despite his words, he’s pulled me closer. I lean in close but then twirl away just before our lips meet.

“It’s your turn to ask me the question!” I say. Josh rolls his eyes and sighs deeply.

“What roles do love and affection play in your life, Donnatella?”

“Well, until recently, not much.” I echo his response. But then I get serious and sit down. “Honestly, even though you could argue we’ve always had a lot left unsaid… too much tangled up in the whole boss/assistant thing… you’ve always been the person most openly affectionate with me. I love my mom and my brother and my sister but we’ve never been  _ affectionate. _ Or outwardly loving. I think it’s more of an acts of service thing when it comes to loving each other. But it’s different with you.”

Josh has joined me on the bed and he’s holding my hand by the time I finish speaking. I look up at him. His eyes are sparkling. I’m not sure if it’s from the champagne or me telling him it’s different with him, revealing how important he is to me.

“Alternate sharing something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner. Share a total of five items.” I read off after we share another kiss.

“Okay. Your laugh.”

“That’s cheating because you just said that before but I’ll accept it. Your selflessness.” I can see Josh wanting to argue the point but not able to get the words out. “Just accept the compliment.” Josh sighs.

“Your perspective, you look at the world, at other people with empathy.”

“Your voraciousness when you believe in something.”

“Your resilience.” He runs his thumb over my hand.

“You’re going to make fun of me for a boring answer but your belief in systemic change. Like you running a dark horse candidate because you believe in politics and the system working in good faith.”

“I’m not going to make fun of you.” He says quietly. I think he’s flattered by the answer, that he’s not that that much about his motivations on a conscious level. He’s been about the work, not seeing how amazing what it is that he does. “I’m going to give a work one too though now.” He says in a light tone. “You’re really good on camera. I’m sad Will saw what I couldn’t.”

“Joshua…” I don’t know what to say to that. So I move on. “You love harder than anyone I’ve ever met. I know you think it’s vulnerability but it’s so much of why I…” I trail off, not meaning to say what was at the end of that sentence. He looks at me with curious eyes though. He’s not going to let that go. “It’s so much of why I trust you.” I try to put emphasis on the word trust, convey that there’s another word that should go there that I can’t quite say yet. I think I see understanding in his eyes. 

“You always know what to say. It’s what makes you the person I want by my side when things get dark. You do that for people. You support them and make it easier.”

“You’re stubborn.” He raises his eyebrow. It makes me smile. “You’re stubborn. You have this explosive energy and you can be impulsive and messy but you’re also stubborn. You’re steady and resolute and you’re the person I want next to me when things get dark.”

And with that, we’ve finished that question and we share a kiss that quickly gets out of hand.

  
  
  


Later we’ve taken a shower and are laying naked in bed when I pick up the questions then put them down again.

“What?” Josh asks.

“The next questions. They’ll bring us down.” I tell him dramatically. He reaches around me for the questions.

“Donna, I understand why you wouldn’t want to do them. We don’t have to. We can wait. But I like getting to know you better. I like you being honest with me, sharing pieces of yourself that you felt like you wouldn't before.”

“Okay… But only because you really can be sweet sometimes.” I say and Josh rolls his eyes. “It’s your turn to ask anyways.”

“Ah-kay. How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people’s?” Josh asks quietly, as if he could protect by keeping volume low from my own answers.

“I’m close with my brother but I don’t think I could say we’re  _ warm _ . And, uh, no. I’d say it wasn’t happier than most other people.” I answer quickly. “What about you?”

“Well, it’s just my mom and I now. But my family has always been warm and close. When my dad was alive, when Joanie was. But I think after Joanie, no, my childhood wasn’t happier than most people’s. Before, for sure. But after… no. It was a lot of guilt and grief for being that young and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

I can’t help but wrap him up in my arms. Our childhoods were different and happened in different decades but both filled with pain. I’m grateful that we’ve both made it here.

“Next question.” I say eventually. “How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?”

“I mean, depends on how many voicemails I have on any given day… No, I’m kidding. I feel incredibly lucky. She’s an amazing woman.” He doesn’t ask for my answer but gives me time to say what I need to.

“My mom and I… it’s complicated. Like we don’t know how to talk. We can do things for one another. Take care of each other. I know she loves me. But I think we spent a lot of time feeling things we’ve never healed from. I spent a lot of my adolescence resenting her for being too weak to stand up to him. But I also worried that she blamed me for him leaving. I know that she doesn’t. But I was a kid who felt abandoned and I could see her loneliness and I don’t know… And I think my mom feels guilty for not protecting us. So she keeps us at this distance.” I don’t cry this time but the sadness does well up inside me.

Josh listens intently. He doesn’t offer trite words of comfort or try to distract me. He just holds me. And I think that’s enough to keep both our demons away. At least for right now. We both fall asleep to the soundtrack of the other’s breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment letting me know what ya think!  
>  The end is near yall.. just one more chapter! unless.. something.. happens... (hope you enjoyed the little nugget of smut my mother interrupted my writing of it several times i tried not to blush and act casual)


	5. Set III Part I

THE SANTOS FOR BRIGHTER AMERICA CAMPAIGN 2006

We wake up late that morning and it’s time to pick up and go to the next city so we don’t have much time to bask in morning romance. It’s more scurrying around with quick kisses and occasional frustration as we get in one another’s way. By the time we make it downstairs, it feels like we’ve entered professional mode again. People do look at us oddly as we work together well throughout the rest of the day. I can see the whispers of people wondering what the hell happened before and what the hell changed but I don’t particularly care. And I don’t think Josh notices it. He’s too tunnel visioned with campaigning.

We don’t talk about it. We both just know. My bags go to his room and at the end of the day, we quietly are getting ready for bed, exhausted, not in the mood for sex or questioning. But we do hold one another again as we fall asleep.

The next day is much of the same. And the day after that. And before I know it, it’s been a week.

“Alright! I’m declaring a day off for everyone tomorrow! That includes you, Josh!” Santos exclaims over the roar of the war room late Saturday night. Some of the staff look confused, others look hesitant. Most look relieved or excited. Josh and I just look at one another.

  


That night I end up in the room first. About four out of the seven nights, this is what has happened. Once we came up together, another two times when Josh actually beat me up here. One of those he just wanted a different environment to continue to review what the pundits were saying and the other time he was dead on his feet and passed out in his shoes face down on the bed. He still pulled me close in his slumber once I settled in next to him.

I take a long shower. At one point I actually sit down just so I can rub my feet. Even low heels are killer when you’re on your feet all day. I only get up when the water goes from steaming to an average heat. Josh thinks I’m a crazy person for liking the water as steaming hot as I do. I smile as I think of him dancing away from the spray, indignantly insisting I turn it to a more human temperature. All while being buck naked.

I’m smiling in the mirror, wrapped in a towel, brushing my hair when I notice Josh leaning against the door frame, watching me. His jacket is off, his sleeves are pushed up and his tie lies undone against his chest. My mouth practically waters.

“Hi.” For some reason, I say feeling shy.

“Hi.” He smirks, his eyes raking me over. “You look… clean.” I scrunch my brows at that which makes him grin and step forward. “It’s sexy.”

“Yeah?” I say, turning my body so that I am flush against him. I bite my lip to drive him mad.

“Yeah.” His voice is low, gravelly, full of lust. Without much warning to him, I reach up and stroke him through his pants. He’s semi hard already. It’s my turn to smirk now as he gasps and lets out a moan. “So fucking sexy.”

“You like me standing here, all wet and waiting for you?” I tease. His hips grind against my hand.

“You might be clean but you’re a very dirty woman.” He tells me. I’ve never been comfortable with sex talk. With most of my other partners, it was more hurry up and get to the good stuff. But with Josh, I don’t feel like I’m about to make a fool out myself or like I want to just get it over with. I like every single part of sex with Josh.

When my lips attack his, his hands get to work removing my towel and proceeding to mess up the straight hair I’d just brushed. I don’t mind very much though.

  


We fall asleep in each other’s arms but wake up with our hands entwined. We’re both spread across the bed, a mess of limbs and sheets. Josh has woken up first but he’s just staring up at the ceiling with a small grin on his face. To avoid the gooey feeling in my chest, I decide to poke him to let him know I’m awake.

“Oh! Good morning.” His small smile erupts into a grin and that doesn’t help the gooey feeling. “So what are we doing on our day off?” Josh scratches his head, emphasizing his arms. I almost sigh. I love his arms.

“Well…” I sit up and start to crawl on top of him. “I have a few ideas.” I can feel him hardening against my thigh and it inspires confidence in me.

“Really?” Josh says cheekily. “We’re supposed to do the last set of questions today, ya know?” He raises an eyebrow. I wonder why he’s changing the subject but I’m struck by an idea. I reach over and hand the set of questions to him. The papers are a bit worse for wear at this point so it’s a good thing we’re almost done. “I-I was kidding!”

“Read it.” I instruct him in my most in-charge seductive voice. His eyes widen and he stares at me for a minute before rushing to find the place on the page.

“Make three true-” He sucks in a deep breath, his eyes searching mine as I rotate my hips over him.

“Continue.” I challenge.

“You’re amazing.” He says, his voice emphasizing the sentiment behind his words.

“You’re sweet.” I tell him, breaking the in charge facade for a second. “Now. Read.”

“Yes ma’am.” He swallows and goes back to the paper “Make three true we statem- oh god, Donna.” He stops as I handle him, positioning myself over him. I give him a look. “Continue, yeah, okay.” He takes a deep breath and I don’t move until he starts reading again. “Three true we statement each- ughhh. Donna.” I slowly push down on him. I’m a little sore from last night and the night before truth be told but I don’t mind much. “Donnatella. Oh, god.” He goes back to reading at another insistent look. “For instance,” He takes another breath. “We are both in this room feeling…” 

“You answer first. We’ll take turns.” I tell him, feeling a little breathless myself at the feeling of him inside me, with me being the one with the power to turn him on this much. He drops the paper beside us and reaches his hands out to my hips as I ride him, looking fascinating by his fingertips on my skin.

“We both, mmm, we both are turned on by you telling me what to do.” he bucks his hips and earns a moan from me. We’re working ourselves into a good rhythm at this point.

“We both are a little surprised at that?” I say almost as a question.

“No, are you kidding? I’ve fantasized about this, god, I don’t know how many times.” He’s breathing hard in between words and it makes it hotter.

“You always seems to like being in charge though.” I toss back, changing positions, leaning over him.

“Oh, I do.” He grunts, his left hand finding my breast earning another moan. “We both had office fantasies back in the day?” He smirks but I can see that he’s going out on a limb here.

“Yeah, definitely.” I go for his neck, kissing and nipping below his ear. “We both want to get back to work as fast as possible but also not let today end.” I go out on a limb too. This time less about sex and more about our feelings. I don’t say it as a question though. I could tell it from his look when Santos announced it. I sit up again and he groans. I smile and his expression gets all tender. He swallows hard.

“We both have a lot of regrets with each other.” He reaches his hand up and cups my face, smoothing back my hair. His eyes are swirling with emotion and it almost makes me cry.

“We both know there’s more to us. More than our past. That we have something in the future. Even if we can’t say what.” Our rhythm together is slow now but it feels incredible. The connection between us feels unbreakable. 

For the next ten, maybe fifteen minutes, we don’t say much. It’s just symphony of moans and hard breathing but we don’t break eye contact and Josh holds my face like it’s the most precious thing he can imagine.

When he finishes, I slowly roll off of him and curl into his side. He kisses the top of my head, arms wrapped around me. And I’ve never felt safer.

  


We have a quiet morning after that. We’re both in our own heads with what I think is happiness and not overthinking surprisingly. We only really speak when Josh asks if I want to shower with him and when I ask him what he wants from room service for breakfast.

By the time breakfast gets here though, I’m ready to start talking again. The quiet was beginning to get unnerving. Josh sits in the chair next to me rather than across and keeps one hand on my leg, or my hand, or brushing my hair back.

“So question 26.” I had put the questions on the table before room service arrived. “Complete this sentence. I wish I had someone with whom I could share…” I look at Josh. It’s a hard question because in this moment, it’s hard to imagine what I can’t share with him. “I wish I had someone with whom I could share my feelings for you, to talk them through with or to just gossip about.”

“You want someone you can tell about your crush?” Josh jokes but the sobers, squeezing my leg lightly. “What about your sister? Or CJ? Or… you know, me?”

“My sister still sees you as my boss and she’d judge me. CJ… the last time we talked about you, it didn’t feel so great. And you… god, Josh, we’re already so complicated.”

“Are we?” he asks.

“Yeah. It feels great right now but what happens when a crisis happens and you completely shift into rotating around that? I’m not blaming you, it’s part of what I love about you. But we’ve screwed it up before. And I don’t want to keep getting hurt.”

“Wait- what are you saying exactly?” I can see him putting walls up, I can see the fear.

“This is why I didn’t want to talk to you about this. I’m scared, Josh. I’m scared that this can’t exist outside the bubble.”

“What’s so bad about the bubble? I like the bubble.” Josh says, removing his hand from my leg.

“I like the bubble too but we also have to live our real lives. And I want to work in politics and I want to get married and I want to have a family. And you can lose that look of panic in your eyes- I’m not asking that of you. I just… want to make sure I prepare myself, make sure my expectations line up with reality.”

“So what? This is just a fling before you go off with your happily ever after?” Josh says defensively. I rub my eyes in annoyance and try to take some calming breaths.

“It’s not just a fling. A fling is not having unrequited feelings for someone for nearly a decade, being dedicated to them for nearly as long. A fling does not come fight for a relationship, some kind of relationship, by doing these questions. I don’t know how you even come to that conclusion. I have been so devoted to you, I don’t know how you don’t see-”

“You left me!” Josh stands suddenly. He won’t look me in the eyes now and my stomach feels like it's dropped to the floor. For all my talk of keeping my expectations within reality, I didn’t think it would fall apart _now_ . We’d gotten to this point. “You left me, Donna. And I know I’m not a fling but I also know that I _hate_ the idea of you falling in love with someone else even though I do want you to be happy because I love you so much. But I don’t think I’m the one to give you everything you deserve but the idea of you leaving again… That’s terrifying. And I’m still mad at you for leaving in the first place.”

I’m shocked into silence. He’s pacing. I don’t know what to say. I’m shocked to hear Josh saying _all_ of this, putting words to his feelings like this and being so articulate about his fears. I know how hard it is for him to do that. But also, somewhere in there… I’m pretty sure he said he loved me. He loves me. He _loves_ me. He loves _me._

“You love me?” I say at a volume hardly above a whisper. He stops in his tracks and looks at me now.

“Well-I said- what I meant to say- see. The thing is… I’m not sure what to say now.” Josh stumbles over himself but I just start smiling and nodding before getting up to kiss him. “What-” He’s interrupting by my lips smashing into his. He takes a few seconds to respond but boy when he does…

  


Later, we’re both lying on the floor (we didn’t make it to the bed), curled into one another, Josh is playing with my hair. I can tell there’s still a lot on his mind.

“You didn’t answer the question. You wish you had someone who…” I say.

“I wish I had someone who could understand how much I love you.” He’s not looking at me and his voice is scratchy as he says it but the depth of emotion he shows to me melts my heart.

“You do. I understand.”

“You can’t, Donna.”

“I can. Because I love you just as much.” He looks at me now. “That got your attention?”

“You always have my attention. Trust me. I am constantly distracted by you.”

“Even when you’re mad at me?”

“Even when I’m trying to convince myself not to care. Even when I’m upset with you for leaving. Even when I’m in the bubble. I am distracted by all of you all the time.”

“I am so in love with you.” I tell him, my blue eyes staring into his brown. This time it’s my voice that is a little scratchy.

“Ditto.” Josh finally smiles. And the gooey feeling is back. But this time I don’t want to go away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN okay I lied this isn’t the last chapter! But it’s been a really long time since I’ve updated and I figured you all deserve an update so here it is- twisty turvy emotional and maybe discombobulated but I hope you enjoyed it (I know i didn’t have a flashback in this one oops sorry you’ll get it in the next update i promise) and I hope you’re looking forward to the next chapter. I have everything all planned out so it shouldn’t take me as long to update this time. Actually you have two more updates to look forward to. Anyways! Thanks for tuning in pls leave a comment it is balm for my soul- and truly thank you to everyone who commented/left a review on ffnet it means the world to me


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